


Frontiers

by MagellanicClouds



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Isshin's A+ Parenting, M/M, grimmichibigbang2020, has some downsides, living in space, some gross Space Station Life(tm) facts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagellanicClouds/pseuds/MagellanicClouds
Summary: A new arrival at Engineering Outpost 11 shakes up Ichigo’s less-than-satisfying life on the edge of the Solar System. Shenanigans ensue. Ichigo just might be in love.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40
Collections: GrimmIchi Reverse Bang 2020





	1. Livin' On The Edge

**Author's Note:**

> The moment I saw Miramare's amazing art featuring a starry background I knew I wanted to pair up so I could write about space things, and so this weird, wonderful fic was born. 
> 
> And then got promptly out of hand.

Ichigo should have known things would end up like this. Not that he had any regrets. 

Their escape through the outpost’s maintenance garage hadn’t gone unnoticed—inevitable, considering their ill-advised four-step plan listed step three as “?????” and 4 as “profit”—and while they may have had the foresight (luck) to have things go down at the end of the workday when there were few crew members around to stop them, there had definitely been alarmed shouting as the two of them had crammed themselves into one of the unattended PEVs and gunned it out of the open zero-pressure garage as fast as their newly acquired vehicle would go. 

Ichigo squinted at the outpost through the icy transparisteel at the back of the cab while they sped away, hands scrabbling to click into the passenger harness as his accomplice showed off his apparent ability to hit every bump between them and freedom. A particularly hard dive into a small carter had his helmet knocking into the steel with a solid  _ thunk _ , but the reproachful grunt he bit out only earned him a laugh and a playful thigh punch, so he was quick to return to watching the outpost disappear behind them. A handful of people were gathered outside the garage to witness their bumpy getaway, furious waving clear even as they became a distant speck.

No sign of pursuit though. Always a bonus.

Satisfied at the lack of retaliation, Ichigo let out a pleased hum, settling more comfortably into his seat, and switched off the PEV’s dash-bound comms unit, cutting the cacophony of angry demands crackling through the link and leaving only their heavy breathing over the helmet-to-helmet line and the hum of the vehicle rattling through their suits. An elated grin stretched across his face as the outpost finally disappeared behind one of the many small foothills edging the methane dusted mountains it was nestled in. 

Freedom had never felt so good.

His accomplice’s loud, ecstatic  _ whoop _ ringing loud and clear in his ear as he floored the accelerator and ramped up one of the larger hills told him the feeling was mutual. The electric engine whined as they accelerated upwards, speeding towards a sheer drop marking where uplift had formed their impromptu ramp out of the vast, icy plains that stretched beyond. Soon enough the PEV’s front tires caught air and they were propelled forward into empty space. 

Ichigo found himself hollering back just as loudly, excitement rising to match the crazy bastard’s as he clutched the vehicle’s overhead handrail for dear life, ass lifting off the seat and shoulders straining against the harness as they fought against the weak pull of gravity and hung as if suspended above the bright, icy surface below. 

The frozen expanse of Sputnik Planitia stretched out before them, horizon curving away to a dark background glittering with stars where the dusty-white band of the Milky Way stood out crisper and clearer than it had ever appeared in the bright cities of Earth. For a few, eternal moments, despite all the knowledge Urahara had ever crammed into his brain about projectile motion and escape velocities, Ichigo felt like they might just float away.

Yet after an extended moment of weightlessness, gravity finally won out and they crashed back to solid ground in a flurry of terrified yelling and flailing limbs. The undercarriage of the PEV slammed into the ice hard enough that the shitty electric engine in the rig stalled out and a huge wave of methane-nitrogen slush was ejected out around their point of impact. 

There was a beat of silence in the cab as they took stock of their situation. Ichigo blinked back spots from his vision, focusing on the cracking of his companion’s shaky breaths through the comms and the creaking of the PEV settling into the bottom of their slushy crater. Once he had a hold of himself he turned his attention to his companion, catching wide blue eyes with his own.

And then Ichigo’s shoulders began to shake, uncontrollable laughter bubbling up from his throat as he slowly released his death grip around his companion’s bicep and pitched his head forward to knock their helmets together. 

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez huffed, peeling his fingers out of their white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel one-by-one, then hit Ichigo with the most charming, sharp-tooth grin he had ever seen; blinding him through two layers of tempered and shaded glass and leaving him breathless. 

“So. Want to see if this thing can do donuts?”

  
  


**96 Hours Earlier**

_ Docking Bay 4 recompression in progress—please stand by. Docking Bay 4 recompression in progress—please stand by. _

Ichigo sighed and leaned against the wall of the wide, brightly lit corridor connected to the bay where the _ NS Karakura, _ latest arrival to their small outpost nestled in the foothills of Pluto’s Hillary Montes, had just touched down. He lazily rolled an ankle against the restriction of his pressure suit and thumped his head against the wall at his back and closed his eyes against the orange warning lights that strafed over the large team of workers packed like sardines into the hallway, waiting patiently around a sealed airlock for the docking process to compete.

He could feel the subtle rumble of the docking doors in the adjacent bay sliding into place reverberating through the steel at his back. The sensation grew more and more intense as time passed until it reached the point where it sent the helmet tethered to his utility belt rattling annoyingly against his thigh. As it reached a crescendo, a faint, but unpleasant screech just on the wrong side of the human hearing range could be heard, carried straight to their ears through the structure itself prompted a palpable, commiserative sigh from the group. 

Thankfully, the screeching cut off rather quickly as the rumbling came to a stop. It was replaced with a hiss and a dull roar that reverberated from the large space beyond the sealed door, growing louder and louder as the density of the air in the bay slowly increased. Eventually the noise stopped and the lights abated. The keypad on the airlock beeped cheerily, backlit numbers turning from red to green, and the crew jockeyed into position as their team lead punched in the security code and the airlock doors slid open wide with a hiss. 

Ichigo pushed off the wall with a sigh, breathing in the bitter tang of chemically generated air as he followed the rest of the group into the hangar with light, bounding steps that carried him several feet at a time. The crew descended onto the transport ship, spreading out to attach fuel lines, begin hull inspections, and prepare to unload cargo like a well oiled machine. 

Just another day at Engineering Outpost 11, last stop on the way out of the Solar System.

Ichigo made his way around to the stern of the ship, nodding to a few of the other workers gathering around the opening bay doors. He came to a stop near a tall, muscular guy with shaggy brown hair that flopped into his eyes.

“Chad. Stuck on cargo again?” he asked, reaching out and bumping fists with the large man. He smirked up at him. “You’d think they’d throw you a job that doesn’t involve being a human forklift every once in a while. You know, for the variety.” 

Chad inclined his chin in agreement, barely-there smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ah,” he replied. He tilted his head, shoulders lifting a subtle shrug. Being part of the outpost’s general crew meant getting stuck with a never ending stream of repetitive, menial tasks that were essential to keeping the place up and running, and the big guy got pigeon holed into a specific set of duties more than most.

Ichigo chuffed, shaking his head in amusement as he pushed lightly off the ground and slapped playfully at the dude’s shoulder as he floated by. He touched down several meters away at the foot of the large vessel and sprung straight up, catching onto the edge of the freighter and muscling up into the open hold, helmet catching on the edge as it scraped by, sending him flailing back for a moment before he managed to pitch himself forward, flopping down onto the hard floor of the hold with a curse, legs kicking uselessly over the edge. He rolled his eyes at the growled  _ “Kurosaki”  _ it earned him from the senior deckhand overseeing the extension of the cargo ramp and gracelessly rolled over, dropping his arm over the edge and giving the rest of the rest of his judging audience the one finger salute. Damn pressure suits may have been engineered with mobility in mind, but they were still stiff and cumbersome on the best of days and it sucked that they were required to wear them even when they were working inside of the tin can they all called home. 

He hauled himself upright on the nearest crate as the ramp settled into position and the rest of the crew trooped into the hold, submitting to their mocking back slaps, and brushed off the disapproving looks from the most senior members of the crew with an eye roll. It was just a bit of harmless fun. No reason to be so uptight. 

Mood suddenly plummeting, he busied himself with grabbing the nearest crate and scowling down at the bright green pattern painted on the lid as he gave it an experimental heft and found it to be rather light. He huffed out a resigned sigh and dropped it back to the deck, looking around for a few more crates with the same green stripes to add to his pile. A quick scan of the packed bay revealed that a good two thirds of the crates that he could spot bore the same markings, so he grabbed a few more in his general vicinity, dutifully walking down the ramp under the watchful eye of the senior deckhand, and carried his stack towards a small flatbed transport vehicle bound for the outpost’s central food depot. 

Ichigo gave the crates a lingering glance as he deposited them on the truck, curious as to what luxury foods they’d gotten in this shipment. It had been a while since their last supply ship and God, did Ichigo hope there was chocolate stashed away somewhere among the food supplies. The vending machines had run out weeks ago and he was itching for a pick-me-up. 

But that was a hope for another time. For now, there was a disgruntled deckhand to not piss off and a supply ship to unload. 

\---

Some time later, Ichigo found himself teaming up with Chad to heft a cumbersome, oversized crate bearing the purple stripes of the research labs out of the hold. They carefully maneuvered the crate down the ramp and onto a transport. He groaned in relief when the crate finally hit the truck bed and hoisted himself up onto the edge after it, slumping against the offending crate to catch his breath. He let his eyes slide shut and considered taking a nap right then and there. Even with the advantage of Pluto’s reduced gravity the damn thing had weighed as much as a stack of bricks. 

A soft call of his name was all the warning he got for the incoming water bottle lobbed at his head. He jerked upright, hands reaching out to grab the makeshift projectile at the last possible second and fumbling it like a hot potato. He shot Chad his best stink eye when he finally managed to get his hands around the thing, cracking it open and flicking the cap back at his friend’s face in retaliation. Chad casually swatted it away and returned volley with Judgment Eyebrows #2, then leapt onto the truck bed to settle beside him. 

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but scooted over to make room for the big guy. He settled more comfortably against the crate, lifting the bottle to his lips and downing half of it in one go as his gaze roamed over the busy docking bay. Most of the crew was still crawling over the ship like a small army of ants, steadily working through a long list of checks and maintenance tasks that had to be completed before it could be cleared for its return trip. 

The small group of new arrivals that had been on board was still near the airlock door, clustered around a security officer who was probably taking them through the standard station orientation. He scanned over them, largely uninterested. They seemed like the usual types; science nerds he’d see once or twice before they became a part of the furniture in their labs and a new batch of hand-picked military assholes who still needed a good boot up their ass. Maybe a few new long haul crew members. Nobody of intere- he choked, attention zeroing in on one particular new arrival as he coughed uncontrollably into the bend of his elbow and Chad patted his hunched back hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. 

Oh.

Oh, _ damn. _

Since when did they get guys like  _ that _ coming out to the ass end of nowhere? 

Standing slightly apart from the tight cluster of starry-eyed nerds and freshly-buzzed recruits, was what had to be the hottest guy he’d ever laid his watering eyes upon. It was the hair that stood out first, deliberately messy and dyed the same color as Earth’s sky on a cloudless summer day. It was a rare and refreshing pop of color that had Ichigo instantly captivated. 

Blue—Ichigo was going to call him Blue. Was there any other choice with hair like that?—was visibly uninterested in both engaging with his peers and listening to the officer that was briefing them with only half an ear, lips turned down in a scowl as he took in the cargo bay, inspecting the area with something close to resentment. Ichigo grimaced in empathy, gaze tracing the obvious tension in the cut of his jaw, the unhappy—rebellious even—set of his broad shoulders. 

Ichigo recognized a kindred spirit when he saw one. It only piqued his interest more. 

Studying Blue’s body language inevitably turned into ogling his body (there was a lot to ogle). How the dude made the standard grey and orange pressure suit look anything other than terrible was beyond him, but  _ damn, did he ever. _ Ichigo wiped hastily at his lower lip to make sure he wasn’t drooling. 

He wanted to climb him like a tree.

Blue must have felt the way he was practically molesting him with his eyes because he turned to look right at him, a blonde eyebrow tipped up in intrigue, the hard resentment in his expression defrosting a bit, replaced with a slow grin that spread across his face as bright blue eyes stayed locked with his own. 

Ichigo felt heat creeping up his cheeks at the intensity of the other’s stare. Blue’s tongue poked out to wet his bottom lip and Ichigo found his eyes drawn down to it like magnets, attention now fixated on his mouth. Blue’s grin got even sharper and Ichigo wrenched his attention back up to meet eyes that practically  _ burned _ with interest and mischief. The intensity sent warmth crawling down his spine to pool in his gut. 

Hell.

_ He was in so much trouble. _

Ichigo found himself teetering between relief and disappointment when the dude’s attention was eventually diverted when the officer barked for his attention, gesturing to the group filing out of the airlock door. Blue all but growled out the woman, but fell into line behind her, shooting one more glance at Ichigo over his shoulder as he dragged his feet across the threshold. 

And then the small group disappeared down the corridor leaving Ichigo staring at an empty door.

“He looked interesting.” Chad murmured quietly. Ichigo blinked, snapped out of his revere in an instant.

“You mean he looks like trouble,” Ichigo muttered, choosing to gulp down the rest of his water in one go rather than acknowledge the burning sensation crawling up his neck.

“Hm.” There were a thousand words wrapped up in that one syllable and every single one of them had the flavor of  _ you like trouble _ . 

Ichigo didn’t have a good argument for that so he relented with a grumble. They settled into a few moments of quiet companionship, but eventually he couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“What do you think he’s doing here?” he asked. “He doesn’t look like a scientist, but there’s no way he’s a soldier. Yourichi wouldn’t care but I’m pretty sure they don’t let guys out of basic looking like that.”

Chad shrugged. “General crew?”

Ichigo snorted derisively. “Can’t see why a guy like him would come all the way out here to work a shit job doing menial labor. Or anyone, really.” he muttered, cutting a glance over to his big friend. “No offense.” 

Chad just shrugged, so he barreled on. 

“If it weren’t for the twins I’d be off this rock already.” He paused, recalling the resentment on the guy’s face as he’d listened to their orientation officer with half an ear. “He didn’t exactly look happy to be here either.”

“He perked up pretty quick when he saw you. And you’re interested in him.”

Ichigo jabbed Chad’s bicep. Hard. “No I’m not.” he lied, grimacing at the pain shooting through his knuckles as he discreetly shook his hand out. Tough bastard didn’t even have the decency to flinch. “It’s just interesting. How often do we see guys our age transferring here? It’s usually hardcore careers.”

“True, but somehow I don’t think that’s it.”

Not about to be called out like that, Ichigo pointedly ignored Chad’s knowing look, crushing the empty bottle between his lands and tossing it at the tall man’s head. Thankfully, it hit this time, bouncing off Chad’s forehead and spinning away. He leapt away before the big guy could retaliate, fleeing up the ramp and back into the hold to continue unloading cargo from the ship like he couldn’t feel the other man’s amusement burning into the back of his tomato red neck. 

\------

The corridors were quiet and empty by the time the pair of them trudged out of the hangar bay, Ichigo waving lazily over his shoulder at the few remaining crew members with Chad a tired and quiet presence at his side. They’d ended up working well past normal hours unpacking and distributing supplies since the _ Karakura _ had arrived rather late into the outpost’s day-night cycle. Most of the station’s lights had already been dimmed in advance of the nightly brownout, leaving the halls feeling eerie and cavernous without the usual bustle of activity. 

Ichigo gave up all pretenses as soon as the airlock doors hissed closed behind them, letting his shoulders settle into a tired slump  as they started the long walk to the habitation area. He rolled his neck, making a satisfied little noise as the vertebrae in his neck snapped back into alignment with a few sharp pops that resounded unnaturally loud through the deserted corridors. 

“You’re going to mess up your neck.” Chad said, quiet mirth in his voice. 

Ichigo shrugged. “Goat Face says that too. Hasn’t stopped me yet.” 

“Hmm.”

The minutes ticked by in companionable silence until they eventually passed through a series of sealed doors into a large biodome bursting with lush greenery and warm, sticky heat. Ichigo sighed, looking high above through layers of latticed transparisteel and insulating aerogel to the endless black void that glittered with stars overhead. Despite being surrounded by stars, there were few places on station with a view. Every join in a wall was another potential point of structural degradation, especially since transparisteel didn’t cold weld easily. Habitation hubs were some of the few places that structural engineers went through the trouble of building with the finicky material, since having at least one place on board that didn’t make residents feel like they were trapped in a tiny metal box did wonders for their mental health.

11 was about as small as it got in terms of science colonies—barely larger than the asteroid mining operations peppered throughout the inner solar system—but it had many of the luxuries usually reserved for larger installations since both it’s military and civilian backers had a vested interest in keeping it’s population of hand-picked personnel happy enough to keep living and working in isolation on the very edges of the solar system. The biodome and its meandering pathways though an impressive variety of flora, sat at the heart of the moderate community of a few thousand scientists, soldiers and support crew who lived and worked there. 

“You want to come over for dinner?” Ichigo asked as they came to a stop in the middle of a wide intersection. He tugged at the collar of his pressure suit; only a few moments in the increased humidity of the dome had him sweating uncomfortably. “I’m sure Yuzu made plenty of leftovers.”

Chad shook his head. “I still have a few instant meals. Those will do.” 

Ichigo’s expression collapsed in disgust. “If you’re sure.”

Chad’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “I’ll be fine, Ichigo.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Go enjoy your shitty meal bar, or whatever” Ichigo teased, reaching out with a closed fist and bumping it against Chad’s. It was an automatic conversation by now; one they had every time their shifts ended after all the dining areas closed. The narrow, single-person bunk his friend stayed in didn’t have much more than a dresser and a bed and definitely no kitchen appliances to speak of, but Chad rarely took him up on the offer. 

He still asked though. Yuzu would make that soul crippling disappointed face at him if he didn’t.

They parted ways, neither interested in lingering with brownout fast approaching and the promise of food and bed so close at hand, and minutes later Ichigo was punching in the code to his family’s small shared unit. The door had hardly slid shut behind him when a body slammed into his own, knocking the breath out of him as thin arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Soft brown hair tickled his nose.

“Ichigo! You’re home! How was work?”

"Hey Yuzu,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around her narrow shoulders, “It was ok. We finally had a supply ship arrive today.” 

Yuzu’s eyes lit up in excitement. “That’s great news!” she said, hugging him tighter. “Did we get anything besides supplies? New people?” 

Ichigo winced at the hope in her tone, heart sinking into his stomach. There were very few kids on board the station; Kisuke and Yoruichi’s two adopted brats were the only others their age . That hadn’t stopped Isshin from dragging his family out to the frontier the moment his old friends had offered him a spot though. He’d probably thought Ururu and Jinta would be enough. 

“Sorry Yuzu. No families this time,” he sighed, hugging her tighter at the crestfallen look those words earned him. It grated against his brotherly instincts. “It was mostly scientists and a new batch of soldiers.”

"Great, more assholes who think they’re in  _ Aliens _ .” Karin’s bored voice sounded from the couch. Her black hair was barely visible over the top of the cushions. Faint music played from the small hand-held console she was no doubt hunched over. 

Ichigo hummed in agreement, “Remember to kick them in the balls if they start bothering you. It’ll probably be a month or two before Yourichi has them whipped into shape.” He ruffled Yuzu’s hair and gave her a soft nudge towards their small living area, following her to look down over the back of their tiny couch as she curled up beside Karin. He draped their single crochet throw blanket that had been with them since Earth around Yuzu’s shoulders then leaned against the back of the couch, reaching out to mess her more reserved twin’s hair. 

“Did you finish your homework?” he asked, fending off the annoyed swat the action earned him with little effort. 

Karin looked away from the hand-held in her lap to shoot him a brief, exasperated glare, thumbs still jabbing away at the buttons. “ _ Duh _ .”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, grinding his heel a little harder into the top of her skull for good measure. “Good. Keep it up so you can get into a good college and get off this miserable rock.” 

He pointedly ignored the annoyed sigh that came from the reading corner tucked in next to the unit’s built-in tv. 

“My grades are fine. Stop worrying.” Karin grumbled, sinking further into the cushions. Ichigo patted her head and let the matter drop. 

“I wonder if they at least had any curry roux on board this time,” Yuzu mused, off in her own world and still frowning. She tucked herself into a ball and dug her chin into her forearms. “Karin’s been asking for beef curry for ages but I haven’t been able to find any.”

“I’ll stop by the supply depot tomorrow moring,” Ichigo promised. “Curry sounds amazing.” 

She beamed at him. “You're the best!”

“Anything for my favorite twin.” The knot in his stomach released a bit as her usual cheer returned. “Speaking of food, anything left?”

"I left a plate for you in the microwave.”

“Thank’s Yuzu. I’ll grab it after my shower.” 

Sisters successfully checked up on, Ichigo headed for his room, sparing only a terse grunt of acknowledgement for their father as he passed by the reading nook. The man barely looked up from the endless reports scrolling across his tablet screen, as aloof as ever. He fought back a wave of bitter annoyance. 

He stepped into his small bedroom and slid the door shut behind him with a tired sigh, taking a moment to lean against the door, head thumping back against the cold metal. Ten years after the Incident and he still couldn’t put a lid on the simmering resentment he felt every time the two of them were in the same room. 

The girls were lucky in some respects. They struggled with the isolation of growing up on a career-oriented station just as much as he did, but they were young enough when things had gone sideways that they didn’t remember what it was like to live on Earth, free to roam and explore instead of trapped in the stark, endless corridors of a space station with nothing outside but stars and hard vacuum.

But Ichigo remembered. And he couldn’t help but resent Isshin for dragging them along from colony to colony before settling on one clearly not meant to be a good place to raise a family, just because it was the furthest he could get from the painful moments of the past. Couldn’t help but resent how the man had become a distant workaholic while Ichigo was left to raise his sisters and bottle up his own grief and anger with no real outlet for it within the strict social structure and thin steel walls of colony life. 

He grit his teeth, exhaling a slow breath through his nose, and started the long process of divesting himself of the damned pressure suit. It shouldn’t matter, he thought as he unclipped the helmet at his hip and tossed it on his narrow bunk. As soon as Karin and Yuzu were old enough to start college off station he was leaving this tin can behind and never looking back. 

He just had to get through the next few years—had to find a better outlet for the restless energy and general discontent that had become an annoying constant in his life. The sparring sessions Yoruichi allowed him when she wasn’t busy building up the First Contact Corps were few and far between and never buoyed his mood long enough for the bruises to be worth it. 

His thoughts wandered back to sky-blue hair and a mischievous, sharp-toothed grin, and he couldn’t help the knot of anticipation that settled into his gut as that brief memory played on loop. Covering his own ass or not, he hadn’t been lying when he’d told Chad the guy looked like trouble.

But maybe trouble was just the shake-up he needed. 


	2. Headknocker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody gets in the way of Ichigo's chocolate addiction—not even hot guys.

Early morning had him drifting into the supply depot only half awake and cracking his jaw around a yawn as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Every supply ship heralded several days’ worth of double shifts and hard labor for the maintenance crew before things settled back into their normal routine, and he grudgingly expected that the depot would be closed long before he was done with work that day, so it was 6 am or never. 

Thankfully, the skeleton crew that worked the night shift started restocking the supply depot as soon as their crates had been delivered, and it turned out that the _Karakura_ had, in fact, been carrying a few boxes of curry roux as well as his much hoped for supply of chocolate. Ichigo had tossed the box into his basket alongside his entire monthly ration of chocolate bars, ignoring the judgmental eyes he could feel drilling into his back. The depot had been open for an hour at best and the chocolate shelf was nearly half empty. Like hell he was leaving without as much as he possibly could. 

Essentials acquired, he wandered the isles for a little longer, picking up a few more items he vaguely remembered Yuzu mentioning they were low on and a bag of Karin’s favorite lemon flavored hard candies and then made his way to the front. The clerk glared at him disapprovingly as he dumped his items onto the counter, gaze flickering down to count up the colorful foil packets strewn across the brushed metal, then up to crawl over him in suspicion. 

Ichigo scowled right back. It wasn’t like his damn work suit had pockets for him to hide extras in. 

The clerk rang up his items in grudging silence, transferring all the items into a bag while Ichigo tapped his station ID against the scanner to complete the transaction. He took his bag and turned for the door, rolling his eyes at the insults mumbled at his back just loud enough to make sure he’d heard. 

Asshole. 

Ichigo trudged out of the depot, navigating the bland maze of starkly lit corridors on autopilot until he’d arrived at his destination. One swipe of his ID later and he was slinking into the crew prep area and making a bee-line to his work locker. He tossed his bag of purchases inside, then shuffled into the meeting room and slumped into the nearest chair in preparation for the day’s briefing. He waved lazily at a few of the other crew members milling around then proceeded to zone out in the hopes of catching a few extra minutes of shut-eye before he had to spend the rest of his day on whatever shitty task he’d gotten assigned to. 

He snapped back to awareness sometime later when a large body took a seat beside him, grunting a vague greeting in reply to Chad’s soft “Ichigo” and inched his way into a more upright position, pressing the heels of his hands firmly into his eyes. 

Soon after, the crew captain called them to order and quickly got down to the business of dividing up the day’s work. Ichigo silently prayed to any deity that would listen for a job that didn’t suck while he waited for his name to be called.

“...Yasutora, Liones, Urahara’s research team needs help moving their new equipment into place.”

“Ah,” Chad agreed, while Ichigo tried not to pout. There went any chance of a decent day with people he liked. Spending the morning in Kisuke’s FTL labs would have been nice too, even if the lead scientist was a disturbingly cheery morning person. Chad was a lucky bastard. 

“Good. Kurosaki, Ōshima, Yokochini, you three get to spend the morning organizing the maintenance stockroom.”

Ichigo retracted every single one of his prayers in exchange for one giant middle finger. “Got it,” he sighed, cutting a glance across the room at his two least favorite crew members as he pushed off the chair and shuffled towards the stockroom. The day had only just begun and he already couldn’t wait for it to be over. 

At least there was chocolate waiting for him at the end of it. 

\---

The following 6 hours passed by in an infuriating cycle of taking inventory, heavy lifting, and threatening his crewmates with bodily harm if they didn’t kick their asses into gear and stop dicking around playing Go Fish behind a pile of crates in the far corner of the stockroom. 

The third time he’d noticed they’d slipped away while he was absorbed in making room for new stock, he just about lost it. 

“The next time I have to come back here I will set your cards on fire,” he snarled, pulling out his most frightening glare. He wedged the toe of his boot under the lid of the empty cargo crate they’d repurposed into a table and flipped it open, scattering cards into the air where they spun lazily and bumped off the wall of crates surrounding their little hideaway. The screen of the inventory tablet in his hands started flickering rapidly and the casing creaked dangerously in his grip. He breathed in deeply, then forced himself to loosen his hold on it on an aggravated exhale. 

He did not need a writeup for fighting no matter how much he wanted to smash his boot into one of their faces. 

Thankfully, either the threat of property damage or the force of his scowl seemed to do the trick and the two idiots scurried off to start moving inventory. The rest of the morning was spent in uncomfortable silence as they sorted through the remaining crates of new supplies. 

The Crew Captain's voice crackling over the radio telling them to take 30 for lunch came as a welcome relief. Ichigo jogged the short distance between the stockroom and the crew area, intent on grabbing the fruits of his morning shopping trip. Karin and Yuzu usually spend a good hour or two in the commissary around lunch in between their virtual classes and if he was quick about it he could squeeze in a meal with them and hand off his groceries so that Yuzu would actually have a chance do something with them that night.

He quickly punched in his locker code and grabbed his belongings, already turning for the door as he slammed it shut again. But. 

He paused, shooting the bag in his grasp a contemplative look. 

Maybe he could just....

Oh, what the hell. He fished his hand around in the bag, pulling it out with one of the precious few bars in hand and looped the handles around his wrist so he could use both hands to tear open the brightly colored foil wrapper, releasing the sweet, earthy scent of chocolate. His mouth watered in anticipation. 

He raised the bar to his lips and snapped off the first square of the delicious treat. His eyes closed in pleasure as he stood there, luxuriating in the way the silky-sweet square melted on his tongue. He couldn’t stop the near-orgasmic moan that escaped him in that moment even if he tried. 

Gods had he missed chocolate. 

It was a moment of pure bliss so, of course, that’s when things went wrong.

A teasing whistle shattered the moment, wrenching him uncomfortably back into the present and freezing him in place. 

“I have _got_ to know what gets those kinds of noises out of you,” an unfamiliar voice said. The intent behind the low, gravely quality of it sent shivers down his spine even as he blushed, realizing exactly what he must sound like.

A firm chest pressed against his back and hot breath ghosted at his ear as the stranger invaded his personal space, a pointy chin nearly resting on his shoulder. Ichigo slowly slid his gaze to the side, catching the barest glimpse of a sharp nose and strands of unmistakable messy blue hair.

_Holy shit._

He’d planned on kicking whoever had decided to be a crass asshole right where it hurt, but now that he knew it was Blue...well it _had_ been lust at first sight. 

Not that he was about to admit that. 

Blue took full advantage of his spot on impersonation of a horny statue to pluck the chocolate bar from his grasp. “Chocolate huh? Must be some pretty good stuff to make you moan like that.”

Ichigo stood frozen, eyes turning back just as slowly as before to stare uncomprehendingly at his empty hands for a long, long moment as the pit of arousal into his stomach morphed into something else entirely. 

Blood roared in his ears and his movements were stiff and wooden as he turned to face the dirty rotten thief with a glare that could strip paint. He cocked his head to the side slightly, regarding his target with the blank detachment of an apex predator deciding how best to take apart its prey. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a few of the other crew members who had the misfortune of being present shuffle away from the pair of them, wary of the approaching nuclear explosion.

Unaware of the danger, Blue shot him a toothy grin and wiggled his weirdly tiny eyebrows teasingly. “I hope this isn’t the only thing that gets you so excited.” 

Then he raised _Ichigo’s_ chocolate bar to his lips, snapping off a corner with perfectly white teeth and Ichigo saw _red._

Whatever clever thing Blue thought he had to say was cut off abruptly as Ichigo crash tackled him to the ground and the teasing grin on his face melted into surprised outrage. He lashed out with elbows as Ichigo bore down on him, forcing him back just enough to roll out of reach and spring back to his feet. 

Ichigo wasn’t quite sure how, but the situation quickly devolved into all-out chaos, chocolate bar forgotten somewhere in the air as they attacked each other with baffling ferocity. Ichigo’s world spun as the blue menace caught one of his sloppier punches and turned his momentum against him. He came to an abrupt stop as he slammed face-first into the bank of lockers, head ringing like a church bell and eyes watering uncontrollably as pain bloomed across his face. 

Blue pressed close behind him, snarling curses into his ear. Ichigo retaliated by whipping his elbow back into where he roughly estimated the guy’s kidneys were located. Blue grunted in pain, stumbling back despite their heavy pressure suits tanking the worst of the hit. Ichigo took advantage of the extra space to brace himself against the lockers and drive his heel back into the dude’s chest, sending him flying across the room, immensely satisfied by the sound of him crashing into the row of lockers opposite the one he’d been pinned against. He turned around, wiping at the blood streaming from his nose with a fist a It felt broken, but he couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across his face if he tried. 

Blue was dragging himself upright on the changing bench that split the wide row they were fighting within in half; he’d clearly fallen over it backwards on his way down. Blood streamed from a nasty looking gash on his left cheek but his lips stretched around a sharp-toothed grin that matched Ichigo’s own. 

Blue leaped over the bench, fist already cocked back for another punch and Ichigo couldn’t help the somewhat manic laugh that escaped him as they dove back at each other, rage suddenly forgotten in the face or a worthy opponent. 

Blue was _good_. This was the best fight he'd had since what, Mars? Before Isshin found increasingly smaller and stricter cages to drag his family to. He could barely see through the tears and the pain, but like hell was he going to stop until either they’d exhausted themselves or he’d pounded Blue’s stupidly pretty face into the ground. 

But things inevitably came to an end when a security crew piled into the locker room, shouting orders and doing their best to insert themselves between the two brawlers. They went largely ignored as the two of them rolled across the floor, grappling with each other as they fought for leverage. 

Ichigo had finally managed to plant himself firmly on Blue’s torso, smirking at the outrage on his opponent’s face when Chad’s (when had he arrived?) thick arms closed around him from behind, trapping him in a bear hug and dragging him off. Two of the security team jumped at the opportunity to manhandle Blue upright while the rest quickly inserted themselves between the two to discourage them from starting again. 

Ichigo struggled in his friends grip for a few more seconds, heels digging fruitlessly into the giant’s shins before giving up the fight and going as limp as a sack of potatoes. Chad nearly tipped over, unprepared as he was for 80 Kgs of dead weight. 

“You can let me go now.” the redhead grumbled when they were no longer in danger of face planting into the ground. He licked absently at the steam blood dripping onto his lips from his broken nose. “I’m done now.”

Chad placed him on his feet but kept a restraining hand on his shoulder. “What happened, Ichigo?”

Ichigo winced, shrugging awkwardly while he avoided his friend’s eyes. “He took my chocolate,” he grumbled. And boy, was that a weak defense when he said it out loud. 

Chad pinned him with Judgement Eyebrows #5 and Ichigo stared back, getting redder by the second under the prolonged scrutiny. Then the big guy sighed and moved his hand into his already messed up hair, patting him like some kind of naughty dog. Ichigo’s entire spine compressed under the weight. 

“Yasutora!” a member of the security team barked, nodding sharply towards the open door. Blue was already being hauled out by a pair of officers, dragging his feet and snarling like an enraged cat the whole way. “We’re taking them to medical. The station master won't want them dripping blood everywhere while she’s dressing them down.”

Ichigo huffed out a resigned sigh and let Chad steer him out of the room, snagging his bag of groceries from where it sat forgotten by the lockers as he passed by and dragging his feet _just a little_ as he cast a searching glance around the area.

“ _Kurosaki,_ move it.” 

“Ok, ok. I’m coming.” he relented, giving the room a forlorn look as he was unceremoniously dragged out of it. 

Blue _so_ owed him a new bar of chocolate.

\---

The look that Isshin pinned him with when he and Blue were frog marched into medical, Chad and several station guards still acting as a physical barrier between them, was somewhere between disappointed and annoyed. 

“I thought you had gotten this behavior out of your system years ago,” he sighed as he snapped a pair of blue latex gloves onto his hands. He jerked his head towards a table towards the back of the large room, turning his back like he expected Ichigo to follow.

Just like he always had. Towed wherever Goat Face decided to uproot them to next. 

The security guard who’d joined Chad in escorting him through the station released her grip on his bicep, but Ichigo stood rooted in place, hands balled into fists and frowning at his father’s back through smarting, watery eyes. He bit his lip against the snarky comeback on the tip of his tongue and tasted blood. Behind him he could hear Blue cursing up a storm as another member of the med team forced him onto a cot to attend to his split cheek. He winced a little when he heard a sharp hiss of pain. He really hadn’t meant for that to happen. 

Chad pushed him forward with a soft nudge between the shoulder blades and he stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing and reluctantly made his way towards his father. Isshin stood next to the cot, arms crossed and frown sliding into true disapproval when he dropped his shopping bag on the floor and sat his ass down on the thin mattress. 

“Ichigo-”

“Don’t.” Bloody fingers curled tightly around the steel frame of the cot. “Just skip the lecture and put my nose back in place.” 

Isshin’s frown deepened, but he didn’t press the issue. He reached out, gripping the top of Ichigo’s head tightly in one hand and firmly took hold of his nose with the other. Ichigo sighed in relief despite the fresh bloom pain. 

Small mercies.

“On three then. One, tw-” 

Ichigo yelped as his nose cracked back into place with a sharp jerk of Goat Face’s wrist. He skittered out of his grip and flopped down on the mattress, curling up like a bug. He cradled his nose with his hands, careful not to actually touch it, as if the gesture would dull the bright spike of agony. “Fuck!”

“ _Language_ , Ichigo.” Isshin reprimanded him, gripping his shoulder and shoving him down flat onto the bed. He grasped Ichigo’s forehead firmly, keeping him still so he could stab a hypodermic needle into his tender cheek. 

Ichigo scoffed, blinking tears away. His father’s blurry silhouette tugged a bone mender out from where it had been folded against the wall and shoved it over his face. There was a click followed by the whine of charging electronics and then he was squeezing his eyes shut again against the glare of bright blue light. “ _Fuck.”_ He repeated, this time with extra emphasis. Isshin sighed and left him alone with the lights, his thoughts, and the building tingling in his face. 

For a few blessed moments it was quiet, save for the telltale sounds of his father cleaning up after himself and Blue’s subdued grumblings from the other side of the room.

Unfortunately, by the time the tingling had given way to the deep itch of regenerating cartilage, his father had finished his task and decided that Ichigo’s helpless state was the perfect time to lecture him. 

“You’re not a child anymore, Ichigo. Getting into fist fights with your co-workers is unacceptable.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes behind the cover of the medical device currently hiding his face. He managed a non-committal grunt in reply when the expectant silence stretched too long, but that was far too little to appease his father. 

“Think about your sisters.” He snapped, stern and unforgiving. “Would you put them through watching you get kicked off this station? What do you think it would do to them? Do you think you’d be welcome at any outpost with such a black mark on your record?”

“Way to lay on the guilt, Dad. I’m not going to get kicked off for _one_ fist fight.”

“That’s not the _point_ , Ichigo. I expect better from you.” A beat of loaded silence settled between them. And then.

“Masaki would be disappointed.”

Ichigo grit his teeth and glared straight into bright blue lights. “Don’t you dare bring Mom into this, you bastard,” he snarled. His voice did _not_ shake. “The only one here to be disappointed in is you. Nine years and you still can’t stop running for long enough to be a half-decent parent.”

“Ichigo.” The warning was clear, but he bulldozed right past it, emboldened by years of growing resentment and the flimsy cover afforded by a thin sheet of titanium.

“Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong.”

Isshin’s guilty silence wasn’t the victory he felt it should have been. It didn’t make up for the near decade he’d spent running, dragging Ichigo and the twins along behind him. First, to the domed metropolises of Mars, then a series of brief stints on a string of asteroid mining outposts—each further out into the solar system than the last—then on to the cloud cities of Uranus, and finally, Pluto. The frontier of human space exploration and as far as he could possibly flee from the painful memories of the missing member of their family buried back on Earth. He’d probably be boarding the first ship out of the solar system when Urahara’s team of eggheads finally cracked the code on FTL. 

At this point, Ichigo wasn’t sure he’d even miss him. 

Thankfully, the acidic barb proved to be more than enough to stop their conversation dead in its tracks, and Isshin fucked off to do whatever he did around the clinic when he wasn’t berating his patients. Ichigo was left to push the simmering ball of resentment in his throat back down where it belonged with everything else he didn’t want to touch. 

“So....Daddy issues?”

Ichigo blinked, then groaned quietly as something inside him cringed in humiliation. _Of course_ , the hot new guy had to hear all of that.

“If you don’t shut up I will come over there and fuck you up again.”

Blue laughed, something warm and sharp that made him want to squirm. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Ichigo blindly flipped him off, blushing furiously and praying for the thin mattress to swallow him whole. 

As if a not-so-insignificant part of him wasn’t salivating over the idea of a repeat performance. 

Thankfully, Blue seemed to take the hint. That, or, based on the quiet cursing, the medic attending to him had resorted to underhanded methods to get him to shut up and sit still for just a few more minutes. Either way, the ensuing silence was welcome, even if it meant he had no more distractions to keep his mind off the ever-growing itch of mending cartilage. 

The outpost security chief stormed in around fifteen minutes later, laying into them as soon as she blew through the door. 

“Kurosaki! What the _hell_ did you think—”

Ichigo rolled his eyes behind the safety of the metal plate. _Of course_ , he got a new asshole torn first, what else was new? 

The Chief droned on uninterrupted for a good, long while, and Ichigo quickly tuned her out. The part of him used to being so utterly boxed in by vacuum and regulation quailed in shame and embarrassment—it had been a _long_ time since he’d done something worth getting chewed out for. But another part of him, still spitting mad after such a bitter conversation with Isshin and not yet quashed back down into the dark depths of his mind where it belonged, couldn’t help but rail against the disparaging remarks being spat at him. 

So what what if he’d gotten into a fight? So what if there was a little blood? He and Blue would be right as rain within an hour, ready to resume the endless stream of tasks thrown their way. 

And it was the most fun he’d had in _ages_. What was so wrong with that?

But he knew the answer to that question already. 

So he hid his feelings behind bright lights, replying with little more than a resentful _yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am, it won't happen again Ma’am_ any time he heard his name followed by an expectant silence that dragged on a tad too long. He was probably getting some pretty angry looks, but they didn’t exist if he couldn’t see them and he was a little too busy trying to quell the building itch in his face by wiggling his nose anyway. He didn’t tune back in until the Chief finally gave up on the beratement and got into doling out his punishment. 

“D-wing is up for M&M Inspection. Have fun doing that. By yourself.”

Ichigo couldn’t help the full body cringe at those dreaded words. Was it too late to rewind the last hour? “...Understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. And you, Jaegerjaquez! Admiral Sosuke warned me you were trouble, but you’ve been here less than 24 hours and—”

Ichigo perked up at the unfamiliar name. It had a nice ring to it. Was it French? German? English was the unofficial language of space, so did that mean he was bilingual? 

That was. Uhh. 

Maybe he should save that thought for later. Yeah. _Much later_.

Instead of dwelling on the warmth that thought lit in his lower belly, he focused in on his erstwhile companion’s dressing down, eager for any other tidbits of information he could glean. And oh boy, there were some juicy bits when he read between the lines that he was eager to turn right back around on the guy. 

When all was said and done, Blue had landed himself a month on bathroom cleaning duty. Ichigo wanted to protest the disparity between their punishments, but on second thought, it was probably the worst job Blue could get considering he didn’t know the ins-and-outs of the Outpost yet. That, and it was obvious from the quiet hissing his partner in crime had been reduced to that it was just as effectively demeaning.

The Chief's tirade wound down relatively quickly once punishment had been meted out, the last grumbled curses cut off by the cheery beep announcing that the bone mender had finished its cycle. Ichigo pushed it away with a relieved sigh and hauled himself up to sit just in time to see the Chief cast a scathing glare over the two of them, then sweep back out the door, just as angry as she’d been at the start. 

The room rang with indignant silence for several long moments in her wake while Blue glared at the door in outrage and Ichigo stared at Blue. 

“So....Daddy issues?” Ichigo parroted.

Blue slowly swiveled his neck around to level an absolutely arctic glare at him. “I swear to god, _Kurosaki_ , I will break your nose again if you say another word.”

“Mmhmm.” Ichigo agreed drolly, not at all threatened. “You can try, bathroom boy.”

“At least I didn’t get M&M,” he countered. Then, just barely audible, “What ever the fuck that is.”

Ichigo barked out a somewhat tortured laugh. “You _really_ don’t want to know.” 

“Che. Whatever.” Blue hopped off the cot and headed for the door. He paused on the threshold, shooting a curious, hungry look back at Ichigo that morphed into a ferocious grin. “See you around, Kurosaki.” 

And then he was gone.

Ichigo swallowed hard around the warm feeling building in his throat, the thrill of their fight zinging like lighting down his spine all over again in that split second. His tongue darted out to lick dry lips as he stared at the closed door. 

“I don’t want you hanging out with him.”

Ichigo blinked, coming back to the present. Isshin leaned against the door frame of his attached office, scowling in the same direction as Ichigo had been in disapproval. He felt his own scowl coming back full force in response. “I’m nineteen. You have literally zero authority to decide who I do or don’t hang out with.” He hopped off the bed and started looking around for his belongings.

Isshin scoffed. “He’s obviously a bad influence, Ichigo. You kicked this habit of getting into fights years ago, then he comes along and destroys all that progress within a day.” 

“I didn’t. Kick it.” Ichigo snapped, scooping up the bag of groceries that had started this whole thing. He glared down at the thin plastic bunched in his hands rather than at his father. “You just started boxing us up in smaller stations. Couldn’t even let me keep the only emotional outlet I had left.” He didn’t give the man time to respond before he was across the room and through the door. 

Once in the hall, the infirmary door firmly sealed between him and Isshin, Ichigo paused to take stock, letting out a tense breath. His lunch break was long over by now, but he doubted that anyone expected him back to work in a hurry after seeing him and Blue leave covered in blood. 

And, _ugh_. He didn’t know if the Crew Captain was aware of their new work assignments yet, but he’d give just about anything to put that off for just a little bit longer. 

Mind made up, Ichigo turned left and set off towards his next destination. May as well grab something to eat while he had the chance. If he was lucky, the twins might even still be there. 

\---

The commissary was nearly empty by the time he arrived. Between the fight and the detour to medical he had missed the lunchtime rush, and though that meant he wasn’t battling the crowds, it unfortunately also meant meal options were slim pickings by that point. Ichigo pouted at the empty hot-bar; he’d kind of been looking forward to Taco Tuesday, but that was clearly off the menu now. He turned towards the refrigerated meals-to-go section with a forlorn sigh, gaze settling on the remaining selection of soggy looking sandwiches and a single, limp looking salad. 

Wonderful. 

After some debate, he grudgingly plopped the salad onto his tray, grabbed a pouch of milk coffee, and shuffled towards a pay station. 

Sustenance acquired, Ichigo scanned the nearly empty lunchroom, frowning when he failed to spot his sisters at any of the occupied tables. He had nearly resigned himself to eating alone when he noticed Chad sitting at a table piled high with books and tablets in the far corner of the room, looking as comically large as he always did in furniture sized for normal people. He was tapping idly at his tablet, an empty food tray pushed away from him, probably about to head back for a second shift. 

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, all too aware of the inevitable topic of their conversation and not too sure he wanted to talk about it while he was still cooling off. Chad was a dude of few words, but even he would have something to say about Ichigo’s recent escapades. 

Then he mentally slapped himself and headed towards the big guy anyway. He probably should apologize for dragging his friend into his mess after all, even if it was only a little. 

As he got closer, he recognized books strewn across the table as his sisters’ study materials and felt a pang of fondness for his friend. Chad had obviously spent his lunch with the twins in his stead and had probably already explained away his absence. 

The last thought made him sweat a bit. Yuzu would _not_ be impressed that he got into a fight over a bar of chocolate. He could only hope Chad hadn’t said anything about that particular detail. 

“Chad. Hey,” Ichigo said, catching the big guy’s attention as he slid into the seat across from him. 

Chad lifted his chin in greeting. “Ichigo.” 

Quiet settled between them. Ichigo stabbed unenthusiastically at his salad. “Sorry. For earlier,” he blurted out when the silence between them became too loud, shooting his friend an apologetic grimace. He lifted one shoulder in a guilty shrug. “Things got...out of hand.”

“Because of the chocolate.” Chad nodded like it made the most sense in the world. He was the best like that. 

Ichigo made a noise of agreement, waiting on tenterhooks for a few breaths. He sighed in relief when his friend said nothing else in response. Good old Chad, never asking for deta- 

“So how was he?”

...Nevermind.

Ichigo squirmed in his seat, hoping his face wasn’t nearly as red as it felt. “I- What?”  
  


Chad’s one visible eyebrow disappeared into his hairline. “Looked like a good fight.”

Ichigo very pointedly avoided making eye contact. “N-no it wasn’t.” 

“Hmm. You were smiling.” 

Well. There was no way to deny that. He shrugged, uncomfortable, snagging the milk coffee pouch off his tray and stabbing the included straw into the hole as a distraction. He was pretty sure everyone had seen him grinning like an absolute maniac, blood all over his face and everything.

How embarrassing. 

Chad leaned back, catching Ichigo’s attention so that he had to stare straight into his eyes. Well, eye. The one that wasn’t obscured by his shaggy hair. “You like him.”

Ichigo choked on his coffee. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” he hedged, looking anywhere but at his friend. 

He could _feel_ Chad’s skeptical frown burning into him. The one that screamed _You can’t lie to me, Ichigo._ Why did Chad have to call him out on his bullshit, like this? He wouldn’t stand for it. 

“Really! I don’t like him!” he insisted, feeling particularly victimized by the pointed lift in Chad’s raised eyebrow. It mocked him out of the corner of his eye.

“Who’s this that Ichigo likes?”

Ichigo froze like a deer in headlights. Karin. _Oh, fuck._

“No one” he said quickly, shooting Chad a pleading glance. The giant just blinked at him, face as unreadable as stone.

The twins sat back down, Karin giving him a hard shove for taking her seat as she straddled the one beside him. He swayed with the force, then plunged his hand into her hair as soon as she’d settled, messing it up until it stuck up in all directions and she was spitting curses at him. And—more importantly—no longer thinking about whoever it was he may or may not like. 

Yuzu however, looking hilariously tiny as she settled down next to Chad, was still looking at him with a curious tilt, so he shoved his shopping bag in her face. “I got your curry roux.” 

Yuzu snatched the bag from his hands with a delighted squeal and practically shoved her face in it as she rummaged through his offerings. She was frowning by the time she came up for air, waving the chocolate bar clutched in her hand in his face. “You’re going to get fat if you’re not careful.” 

Ichigo rolled his eyes and swatted at her hand. “How can I possibly get fat when they make me work twelve hour shifts in exchange for a pitiful 8 bars of chocolate a month?” He scoffed. “If anything, I’m going to starve.”

Karin, finally finished with putting her hair back in order, jabbed him in the ribs. “Stop being dramatic. Yuzu would never let you starve.”

“That’s very true.” Yuzu nodded primly, buffing her nails on her pale, yellow sweater, chocolate bar still in her grip. “I prepare every meal for optimum caloric efficiency. Now don’t change the subject, Ichigo. I didn’t know you liked anyone on the station.”

Ichigo groaned, planting his face into his hand in resignation, wincing when his nose smashed into his palm. There was no escaping this, was there?

“New guy,” Chad grunted. Ichigo shot him a look of utter betrayal through his fingers and shrunk down in his seat. “The one he got into a fight with.” 

Yuzu squinted at him, that curious little tilt of her head back in full force. “Is he pretty? You wouldn’t be so flustered if he wasn’t pretty.” 

“Of course he is, Yuzu.” Karin yawned. “Ichigo started a fight with him. He only does that with guys he likes, remember?”

“Hmm, you're right, Karin. It has been a while since the last time.”

Ichigo started between them, aghast. “What do you mean I- I did _not_ start it!”

“Are you sure? You’re being pretty defensive about it.”

“I’ll hide your chocolate if you don’t tell us.”

Ichigo let his hand slide down his face, ignoring the stinging in his palm when it hit the table with a loud _smack_ , and stared at them both in horror. He opened his mouth, paused, then clenched his teeth, feeling his face heating up into a brilliant blush that definitely clashed with his hair. Beads of sweat formed at his temple under their intense scrutiny as he scrambled for something to say. 

Unfortunately his silence was an answer all its own. One Karin was all too happy to pounce on. “Hah! You _do_ like this guy!”

“I don’t like him!” He insisted feebly. Why was he still trying at this point? “He stole my chocolate! He broke my nose! I-I want to punch him!”

Karin had the audacity roll her eyes. “Yea, on the mouth.” 

Yuzu nodded enthusiastically, crunching on a cucumber she’d pilfered from his plate. “Softly.” 

Then they teamed up for the kill. “With your mouth.” 

“Ah.” 

Ichigo smacked his forehead down on the table next to his wilted salad, carefully avoiding harming his still tenderized nose. “You're all traitors.”

Karin patted his back in mock consolation, every ‘pat’ hard enough to make his lunch tray rattle. 

Chad returned to work soon after, leaving Ichigo to fend for himself against the blistering judgement that only a pair of teenage girls could render. Despite the hit to his ego, Ichigo lingered with his sisters for as long as he could justify, reluctant to return to work and the punishment that was awaiting him. He couldn’t stall forever though, and eventually he mustered the courage to meet his fate. 

The timing of his departure didn’t have anything to do with Karin’s last jab at his taste in men. Nothing at all.

“Nice going, Kurosaki,” the Chief drawled, when he’d finally dragged his feet into his cluttered office, equal parts angry and mocking. “Heard you broke your nose _and_ landed yourself the worst job on this rock.”

Ichigo nodded glumly, eyes firmly affixed to a cluttered shelf full of model ships. There was a particularly interesting 22nd century frigate teetering on the edge. It rocked precariously when the Chief slapped his tablet on the desk, looking like it could take off. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you dawdling trying to get out of it, you idiot. Did you think we’d be able to justify clearing out an entire wing on short notice just for you? The only things you accomplished were wasting my time and robbing yourself of another hour of pay.” 

Ichigo winced. That...was kind of obvious in hindsight. 

“Don’t worry, though. I’ve already notified all the residents in the wing to be out of the area by 6 am tomorrow. I expect a thorough inspection.” 

“Understood, Chief.”

“Good. Now get out of my sight. I’m sure you noticed yesterday that there’s some bearings in Bay 4 that need grease packed into them, and you’ve just volunteered for the job by being the last to arrive for second shift.”

Ichigo sighed a sigh of absolute despair. “Got it, Chief.”

That was how he once again found himself trudging back to his family’s living quarters through empty corridors just before brown out, the rubber soles of his sneakers squeaking unnaturally loud in the night-time quiet. 

Ichigo shivered, rubbing his palms against bare arms and felt goosebumps beneath his touch. He’d showered in the crew changing rooms and ditched his grease-smeared pressure suit in a cleaning chamber in exchange for the spare change of clothes he kept stashed in his locker for such occasions. The ripped jeans and thin tee did little to protect his slightly damp skin from the cool, dry air circulated through most of the outpost. For once, the wall of warm, slightly sticky feeling that hit him when he stepped into the habitation area was a relief. 

He made short work of cutting across the biodome towards the small wing of family units, wanting nothing more than to eat whatever leftovers Yuzu had saved for him before collapsing into bed after such an exhausting day. For all that his thoughts were buzzing like a hive of bees, he was sure he’d be asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d wake up and find this day had- 

Ichigo stopped short outside his door, blinking in surprise at the sight of a chocolate bar attached to it with a strip of orange duct tape and a small slip of folded paper. 

He carefully detached the bar, grasping it with three fingers while he keyed in the code to their quarters with his index finger and held the small scrap of paper up to eye level with the other hand. He flipped it open with bemused curiosity and was met with a short note written in a messy scrawl. 

_The big guy said you really like chocolate._

_Sorry for eating yours._

_-G_

“I don’t know whether to kiss Chad, or kill him,” Ichigo said as he stepped through the door into the dimly lit apartment. He stared at the note in disbelief, stuck somewhere between indignance and reverence.

“Cheating on your crush already?” Karin drawled, appearing suddenly in the doorway of their tiny bathroom, head flipped upside down as she toweled her hair. “How could you, Ichigo.” 

Ichigo clutched the note and chocolate bar to his chest and let out an unmanly squawk. “I’m not- It’s not- _He’s not my crush!_ ”

Karin straightened up, tucking in the ends of her towel turban, and shot him a blank look. She shrugged. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess.”

“I didn’t raise you to be like this.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” She waved him off and headed for her and Yuzu’s shared bedroom, wet feet slapping loudly on the laminate floor. “Yuzu left your plate in the microwave again. Try to make it home for dinner tomorrow.”

The door slid shut behind her, leaving Ichigo alone and feeling supremely judged. 

“Rude,” he huffed, stomping over to the kitchen and jabbing the “warm” button on the microwave. He settled against the counter to wait, fingers tapping impatiently on the counter top as the scent of what was probably some kind of stew started to fill the room. “Can’t a guy crush in peace?” he grumbled, shoving the note and candy into his pocket. 

The microwave beeped its completion, pulling him out of his sullen mood. He retrieved the bowl, spending a few moments playing hot potato with it and cursing quietly at his own bad life choices. Once he was no longer in danger of having his fingerprints seared off, he dug a pair of chopsticks out of the drawer at his side, settled back against the counter, and got down to business, scarfing down the fragrant meal without really tasting it. 

Within minutes, he’d shoveled the last of it into his mouth and chased the food down with a long drink of water straight from the tap. He gave his dishes a quick scrub down, knowing he’d get it from Yuzu in the morning if he didn’t clean up after himself, then shuffled over to his tiny room, peeling his shirt off before the door had even closed behind him. 

“We’ll that was a roller coaster,” he murmured, sinking down onto his narrow bed. He scooted backwards until his back hit the wall, folded his knees into his chest and dug around in his pocket for Blue’s peace offering. He read the note again, tapping the bar of chocolate against his knee, then sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, recalling the euphoric feeling of their fight. 

So that was Blue, he thought as he tore into the brightly colored foil and relaxed into the sweet scent of chocolate for the second time that day. Bold enough to steal food from a stranger, wild enough to match him in a fist fight, and savvy enough to put well placed information to good use.

Ichigo took his first bite of chocolate and smiled. A lot of bad things had come out of the day, but on the whole, things were looking up. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> In this house we support Ichigo's lust at first sight. Climb him! For Science. 
> 
> The remaining chapters will be posted weekly!


End file.
